


Comfort

by Impressioniste



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impressioniste/pseuds/Impressioniste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders returns home late after working in his clinic, exhausted and seeking comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

It was well after midnight when Anders reached the familiar courtyard leading up to the Hawke estate. A faint breeze ruffled his clothing, and he was grateful for the feel and smell of fresh air. His footsteps dragged wearily against the stone as he walked, too exhausted to lift his feet more than absolutely necessary. When he finally arrived at the front door, he had to push with both hands to find enough strength to get it to open.

Anders had kept the clinic open late that night. There had been an outbreak of some sort of contagious choking cough in Darktown earlier that week, and while the adults had shown improvement after a few days, the children afflicted with it had apparently been worsening. Many were in critical condition by the time their friends or family had been able to bring them to the clinic, and he had been unable to turn anyone away, no matter how late it was or how tired he felt. He could make do without sleep for much longer than those sick children could make do with barely functioning lungs.

After the last of the children had been sent home breathing easier, Anders had all-but collapsed in exhaustion. He had knelt on the floor with his torso against a cot and rested just long enough to get up and move again. He briefly entertained the idea of simply spending the rest of the night there in the Undercity, but the thought of Hawke sleeping alone in their soft, warm bed without him was enough to get him to force himself to keep putting one foot in front of the other and make the trek back to Hightown. He wanted to sleep in the comfort of Hawke’s familiar strong arms, not in the fetid darkness, among the rats.

The house was utterly quiet. Anders padded through the main rooms and down the hallway to the bedroom he and Garrett Hawke shared. The room was dark, save a lamp on the bedside table. Whenever he expected Anders home late, Hawke always lit a lamp before falling asleep so that Anders did not have to grope around in the dark when he eventually returned home. It was a tiny, thoughtful gesture, but it meant the world to Anders, and never failed to bring a soft smile to his lips. To him, it meant that Hawke was always thinking of him, even when they were apart.

Hawke was already asleep, but it was so late that Anders had hardly expected otherwise. He was sprawled out in the middle of the bed, with an open book lying beside him. Nearing the bed, Anders picked up the book, closed it, and set it aside on the table, next to the lamp. Normally, he divested himself of at least his overcoat and boots before plopping down on the bed, but tonight he was too tired to even think about dealing with straps and buckles and laces.

With a heavy sigh, Anders thumped down beside Hawke, propping himself up against the pillows and looking over at the sleeping form of the man he loved. He brushed his fingers gently through Hawke’s dark mop of hair, all the way from his rough, shaggy bangs to the softer, finer bits at the nape of his neck.

Hawke stirred at Anders’ gentle touch. His eyes slowly blinked open, and he looked up at Anders with a sleepy, heavy-lidded gaze. As the recognition of Anders’ presence hit him, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He turned his head slightly to one side so that as Anders’ fingertips continued to trail down the side of his face, they wound up stroking gently at his bearded jaw and chin.

“Late night?” Hawke’s voice rumbled softly through the silence in the room.

Anders, weary as he was, smiled back. “Very late. I’m surprised the lamp hasn’t burned itself out.”

“I could say the same about you,” Hawke replied with a gently admonishing tone.

Anders chuckled softly, continuing to run his fingers through Hawke’s rough beard and down the side of his neck. “I’m not so sure I haven’t, this time.”

Hawke sighed the pleasantly ticklish sensation of Anders’ hands on his skin and in his hair. Anders always had a healer’s touch, Hawke mused, whether he was conscious of it or not.

“Get undressed, and come to bed.”

Anders groaned quietly in dismay at the thought of getting undressed, closing his eyes and sinking back against the pillows. “I've been on my feet since I left the house this morning. I ache in places I didn't know existed. I feel like I’ve been trampled by a dragon. Or a herd of wild mabari.”

Hawke stifled a laugh, sitting up and leaning over Anders to plant a kiss on Anders’ mouth before beginning to wrestle with the fastenings on his coat. “You smell like it, too.”

Anders swatted playfully back at Hawke, but missed entirely. He let his arm drop back to the bed.

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll change in the morning,” he protested as Hawke continued to fiddle with his buckles.

“We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. Either way, the clothes are coming off.”

Anders sighed and let Hawke do as he pleased. He had no energy left to argue. “Fine. As long as I don’t have to move, you can do whatever you like.”

Hawke chuckled roguishly. “Be careful what you say. I might take you up on that.”

Anders grunted as Hawke’s arms gently nudged him up into a sitting position, just enough so that he could pull the coat free. Anders’ shirt followed suit a few seconds later, and after that, his boots. “You know I didn’t mean it that way,” he protested, halfheartedly. A moment later, he felt Hawke’s arms encircling him from behind, holding him tightly and supporting his weight. Anders let his head fall back and rest against Hawke’s broad, bare chest. “Not that that’s ever stopped you before. But I’m afraid I’m far too tired to properly return the favor.”

“And if I’m okay with that?” Hawke’s reply was slightly muffled as he pressed his lips down the side of Anders’ neck, smiling to himself when Anders’ body responded with a tiny shiver.

“I’ll feel guilty,” Anders replied before pausing and breathing a quiet, satisfied sigh at the feel of Hawke’s lips on his skin. “But you know I won’t say no.”

“Mhmm,” Hawke murmured in acknowledgement. “I know. But _you_ know I always ask.”

“I know,” Anders echoed, closing his eyes and trying to commit each tiny spark of pleasure to memory. “Thank you for that.”

Even though they had never actually discussed the subject, Anders had quickly picked up on the fact that Hawke always made sure he was a willing participant whenever they engaged in intimate physical contact. It was just another little gesture that showed Hawke loved and respected him, and even understood him, to an extent. It was true that Anders had never refused him, but it was incredibly reassuring to feel like he had a choice, and to know that his affections were never taken for granted.

Hawke pulled Anders closer to him in response, and Anders let himself melt into the embrace.

“Feeling better, now?” Hawke asked.

“Mm. Much better.”

“It’s not so bad to put yourself in someone else’s hands every once in a while, is it?” Hawke teased.

Anders chuckled. “Your hands? Never.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Hawke replied, unwrapping his arms from around Anders and placing his hands on Anders’ shoulders instead. He applied gentle pressure with his thumbs and rubbed at a spot between Anders’ shoulder blades. “Is this all right?”

Hawke received a stifled moan in response from Anders as he worked a knot loose. He worked on several knots in Anders’ muscles one by one, and Anders seemed to relax a little bit more each time.

“Still all right?” Hawke asked again, after a while.

“Yes,” Anders replied with a slightly shaky voice. He might have been too tired to consciously respond to Hawke’s touch, but his body was having very little difficulty reacting on its own.

Hawke did not fail to notice that fact, and he smiled as he brushed his mouth against Anders’ ear. Anders squirmed as Hawke’s beard tickled him, tingling all the way down his spine. Despite his exhaustion, he savored each kiss and caress that Hawke lavished upon him.

Growing bolder with his hands, Hawke slipped one arm back around Anders’ body, and let the other stop to rest near his lap. Anders drew in a sharp, ragged breath as Hawke’s palm tentatively cupped him between his legs, and any doubts Hawke might have had regarding Anders’ state of arousal were quickly dismissed. Hawke’s fingers deftly slipped beneath the waistband of Anders' pants, eliciting a loud, low groan from him, followed by an involuntary twitch of his hips.

With Hawke’s arm holding Anders's body tightly in place and Hawke’s fingers closing around him, stroking him both tenderly and insistently, it did not take Anders long to tumble over the edge of coherence and into a searing pool of pleasure. His thoughts became a blur, and he could feel himself panting helplessly as his body snapped taut. His fingers tugged desperately at the bedsheets as he released himself into Hawke’s relentless grip, the last traces of his remaining energy completely and utterly spent.

Anders felt his eyelids droop as his breathing slowed, and he had no strength left to keep them from closing. Hawke’s breath was at his ear again, coupled with soft, affectionate words and the gentle brush of his lips. He could feel his body being shifted in Hawke’s arms, followed by the warmth of a blanket being tucked in around him and Hawke's fingers brushing a few stray bits of hair away from his face.

He tried to whisper, “I love you,” but was uncertain as to whether or not his lips had actually moved to form the words. A cloying mix of exhaustion and pleasure washed over him in waves, and his chest heaved with a massive, contented sigh. His mind was, for once, a deep, blissful void.

Just before the last tendrils of consciousness released their hold on him, a sweet, faint whisper fell on his ears.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
